


Louis Returns to Italy (2007)  - A Scene In Three Acts

by Leshan



Series: The Best of Indulgent Red One [2]
Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Italy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:08:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2459345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leshan/pseuds/Leshan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Italy has come to be a frequently visited locale, for better or worse. This time, it was for the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act 1

**Author's Note:**

> The following are selected excerpts from Livejournal Account “Indulgent Red: Volume One” 
> 
> Should you enjoy this writing yet come upon names and/or situations with which you are unfamiliar or would like to explore further, the entire collection can be found by visiting http://indulgentred.livejournal.com/ - It should be noted that Indulgent Red is no longer an active or monitored community. 
> 
> Questions regarding the content should be directed ***privately*** to the email address on file with AO3 or via private message. Thanks for reading, and in advance for your feedback.

The night had blown in wet and thunderous and I stood only for a moment looking out of the larger window in my upstairs room before heading down the large winding staircase. I had slept late and the hour was near ten when I looked at the clock at the top of the stairs. Yet, in an instant I was taken from the remaining vestiges of slumber and yawning as I went downstairs, to sheer delight that coursed through my body like the rumbling winds outside. Louis stood looking out the downstairs window almost in the same exact pose I’d demonstrated moments before. He turned when he heard me, and the smile that easily crept onto his mouth was likely only outshined by my own.  
  
“Louis!” I cried enthusiastically. “Why didn’t you phone me and tell me you’d arrive tonight? Ah you and your wanting to keep me in trembling anticipation, isn’t that what you called it before? Damn but I’d have told you to meet me in Venice or Florence!”  
  
“I think,” He said as he came to stand in front of me when I cleared the last step. “That Venice wouldn’t add anything to what I’m feeling at this moment. I knew I’d be happy to see you of course, but oh how you come down a staircase so grandly, Lestat. Really, it’s as if you’ve practiced grand entrances all your life.”  
   
I felt what might have been a blush fill my cheeks, for my vanity wouldn’t allow me to argue otherwise. “Venice would have been nice though.” I mumbled. His demeanor had me somewhat off guard, for I knew Louis of course and I knew when he was being more assertive than usual. I didn’t mind really, and despite the fact that I couldn’t bring down the veil of silence between us, it didn’t take a genius to know the main thing on his mind as he pulled me into his arms.  
  
“Venice will be nice, Lestat. In time we’ll go of course, and to Florence as well. We’ll do everything you want to do of course. Don’t we always?” He laughed. He kissed me gently at first, light and almost in a friendly manner upon the lower half of my cheek. Then, as if my lips were magnetized to his own, he moved quickly to them and began to demand such reunion. Who was I to argue? I gave a little laugh as the question formed in my mind and then surrendered to the pull and pressure of his mouth, letting his tongue find mine as his hands clasped around my waist and pinned my arms tightly against my sides. Oh what a delight to have him so near, to taste the unique flavor and feel the two of us starting that slide toward a universal melding into one body and soul.  
  
Before I wanted, he pulled back and left me breathless. “Now,” He said with a small laugh that reminded me of myself, “I can think straight for a few minutes anyhow. I’ve thought about kissing you for hours, but I didn’t dare wake you. I know how you are, crabby.”  
  
“I’m horridly crabby, aren’t I?” I asked and took his hand up in mine as we walked to the larger leather sofa and sank back in the cushions. “Oh Louis, I’m so glad you’re here at last. This big house is lonely when I am the only one here. It is worse than the solitude in Mississippi, it’s stony and unbearable!”  
  
“You’re crabby –and- spoiled.” He added. “I think the Mississippi house is wonderful when I’m there alone. Still, it is far better to be here with you again. What’s this I see?” He pushed a book on the table with his foot. “You’re reading Dorian Gray again? Why?”  
  
“It’s a study, you could say. I told someone to read it and I can’t very well school them in the importance of the book if I am not current with the characters and the meaning involved, can I?” I pushed his feet with mine and laughed as I told him to take off his shoes and get comfortable now that he was home. He complied, but didn’t stop at shoes. He leaned over and unbuttoned the few shiny closures on my shirt. I argued it wasn’t fair since I’d just gotten dressed, but he only laughed and continued to tease me. He pulled at my nipple ring with his teeth, gently at first and then hard enough to draw blood while I clutched at his hair. “Louis!” I yelled out, “Did you travel all this way just to molest me?” I felt him nod with a greater laugh before he slowly licked at the trickle of blood and looked up at me.  
  
“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it, Lestat. You find it far more appealing than sitting in this cold mansion, holed up by the fireplace with an Oscar Wilde tale that you’ve read at least a dozen or so times. But oh, if you protest… if you want me to leave and go back to the States, I’ll leave you to it, by all means!”  
  
“No, no… I, I don’t want you to go and you know it! You just seem hungrier for me than I’d anticipated. Actually I figured I’d have some making up to do, what with being here so long with Lucas and our having hardly spoken on the phone. I guessed it would be me that had the pleasure of physically coaxing you into forgiving me!”  
  
“So I’m stealing your thunder?” He asked coincidentally as the last echo of the storm rolled off in the distance. That tongue of his flicked over the tip of each of my nipples in turn and I caught my breath. “Should I leave it all to you, all the time? Of course you remember that some of our best lovemaking has been a result of my surprising you in this very way, am I right?”  
  
He was right to a fault, and I pulled him up toward me and this time assaulted him with my own hard kisses until he broke free and leaned down close to the cleft between my neck and shoulder. Just above my collarbone he nicked the flesh and I felt the blood spill. It was this he wanted, along with the physical love that was sure to follow and he sucked greedily at the slight flow, wanting all he could gather. I too wanted this from him, I wanted to taste him inside and out as always – but like any good foreplay, I decided I would hold off and what was it…. Make him tremble with anticipation. I loved handing things back to him in the way he’d put them to me. It was among my many adorable faults.  
  
“Let’s get you out of these clothes.” He said and virtually pulled me off the leather in a way that had I already been naked might have ripped off the top layer of my skin. “I can’t wait to feel you, Lestat. I am telling you, it’s been miserable without you. “  
  
“Have you been doing horrible things to yourself in our bedroom back home?” I laughed as he cast the shirt aside and started on my jeans.  
  
“Oh yes, Lestat.” He said deadpan in the middle of such a prelude. “Dreadful self abuse in your name, that’s it.”  
  
I howled with laughter and helped him get my pants off. They went into what became a lump of unwanted clothing as Louis shed his shirt and dress trousers with nearly as much impatience. We were in love and together at last he and I, and I rolled him onto the thick rug on the other side of the table. He in turn pinned me down and eased himself up onto my chest to speak to me in between kisses. I watched his eyes and in them saw the hunger undiminished. I understood that he’d not consumed the sweet vitality our kind thrives upon in quite awhile by his standard of need and so I leaned in to his ear and whispered to him, “Drink…”  
  
I felt the sharpness of his teeth, the pressure of his lips before the pull of them against my flesh… that initial puncture, so deep and sharp. Even for us, we wince in a sort of pain, for it is like nothing else. He pulled and the fount came forth as commanded. My sweet child drank eagerly of the very liquor that had breathed life back into his veins once his mortal breath had ceased. He moaned with desire and rapture as we all do when drinking, for the secrets the blood reveals. In it, he sees all that I am, backward and forward like some sort of mad museum filmstrip.

 

 


	2. Louis Returns to Italy (2007) - Act 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sensuality only our reunion can produce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following are selected excerpts from Livejournal Account “Indulgent Red: Volume One” 
> 
> Should you enjoy this writing yet come upon names and/or situations with which you are unfamiliar or would like to explore further, the entire collection can be found by visiting http://indulgentred.livejournal.com/ - It should be noted that Indulgent Red is no longer an active or monitored community.
> 
> Questions regarding the content should be directed ***privately*** to the email address on file with AO3 or via private message. Thanks for reading, and in advance for your feedback.

When he had taken enough to satisfy, which without coincidence was enough to stir my own arousal to the point of breaking – that is to where I must take action, or you could say give into it altogether, I fell with him to the softness of the rug beneath our feet. It was some ridiculous thing I’d bought impulsively on one of my travels, but I couldn’t resist the thick white plush… what was it, alpaca or something? Who knows? What I can vouch for is that it made a wonderful nest for what was to come and that was that my Louis once again assumed the upper hand! He slid down my chest as he left random kisses everywhere. Oh what a delightful present and testament it was to his presence once again in my nights! 

Soon enough I felt him touch me in the sweetest places and there was nothing I could do but arch my back and allow him free reign. I suppose among those who have known me intimately – David, Louis of course, and others I won’t name like some tabloid star – that it is no secret that I love eh…. Well… I do love having a mouth placed strategically there and working for my pleasure. There. Did I say that with enough discretion? 

So Louis, knowing that and Louis, also loving to DO that very thing settled in for the amorous task. Oh but I was rolling with pleasure as he softly inhaled and tugged at my hardened flesh, how he lingered there just at the very edge and then seemed to devour me to the core. He picked up a rhythm and soon my hips were keeping time with it and my moaning was something of a chorus. I was never without amazement at the way everything else became drowned out when he and I made love. I mean, the stereo now was a dim recollection, a scant background and then it was nothing. There became nothing but him, and me, and soon… yes … Oh God, when we actually made love… there was nothing but the symphony we created.

Seriously – let me break in my scandalous recantation of my evening with Louis to tell you this is important in knowing me. I often will weep after lovemaking. Someone once told me there’s an actual, clinical name for the reaction but what I think is this: The alchemy of lovemaking, that is taking the you and the me, the kisses one to another, the dance of body and soul toward becoming one – where everything gets drowned out but the heat and the energy that palpates in the air around what has become “us”, is so powerful, that it is indeed as my Frenchmen called it, “ The little death”, in translation. It is something akin to Heaven; it is Unison and Harmony and Divinity… This is my absolute belief! You must know this if you are to understand what I feel in that moment. And no, it isn’t like that with everyone. Actually, it’s not even like that one-hundred percent of the time with Louis. Yet when it is, with anyone, coming out of it and realizing you’re still here on this earthly plane is enough to make me weep. At least that’s the romantic version of the reaction. If you know more scientific reasons, don’t tell me. 

Back to the moment at hand: Louis was shall we say, going to town, which had me writhing and meeting each of his motions. There came the point where I reached down and made him stop, though I didn’t really want to make him stop I suppose. There is another problem: I want to do everything, sexually and sensually when the moment arises, no pun intended. I mean to say that in this particular moment, I would have been delighted to have Louis take things to completion, but I wanted to make love to him, or have him make love to me, or … Ah, I blush to say all the things that spring into my head that we could do! I’d like to do them all at once if I could. Yes, I know – I’m greedy even in sex. Sue me. What now then? Should I flip him over and lift his legs up around my waist and press into him? Would he do that to me? Ah, what a dreadful anticipation! 

He didn’t give me time to think about it, because he rose up from where he’d been performing so skillfully and moved over top of me. When he looked down into my eyes, his smile daring and casual at once, there was no question that he was not going to relent and let me be the commander in chief. He leaned down and kissed me long and slow, and while he did this, he slipped to the side and reached down to caress that place he wished to fill. His long fingers found their way inside me and I nearly screamed with rapture, but instead I bit his lip hard enough to draw a little taste of blood. This only caused him to laugh a little, low and seductive and scissor his fingers inside of me for several seconds. Then, he pulled them out slowly and moved to replace them with the only thing I craved at that moment other than more of his blood. I would have that too surely before morning came, but for now – oh no, nothing so liquid would satisfy me. 

He pressed into me with practiced ease and before too long our breathing was deep and hard as our mouths moved against one another. His hands, my hands, how they moved over and under, his into my hair, mine down over his back and then on the firmness of his ass, clutching there hard enough to leave what surely were territorial impressions. He lifted my hips and half sat up, exposing my chest and everything else. Skillful as always, he continued to press in and withdraw, watching as he moved – for he loved to see not only the actual intercourse, but also the effect it had on me. Probably my expressions were almost pained, or so he’d told me before, but if there’s anything true to the cliché of “It hurts so good”, it’s immortal lovemaking. He commanded me to work myself for his viewing pleasure, and I only happily obliged him, for as I just told you, it hurt so good already that I eagerly sought to soothe the tension there by any means. 

Louis watched me as he moved his hips in slow thrusts, and oh what naughty things he said to me! (But I love it when he does!) So that soon enough I was at the breaking point. I did not however want to go there without him, but knew what timing it would take to get us there together. I looked at him and he had that glint of fire in his green eyes that told me it wouldn’t take much. So what did I do? I returned some of his smutty sex-talk and he laughed and spread my legs wide, one in each hand and rode me just like I’d told him to do. We spurred one another on toward climax, and soon I felt him more than heard him catch his breath. It was just the slightest hiccup of motion, but I knew what it meant. I begged him for it! I said “Louis please, please… yes, give it all to me!” I would have cried it from the rooftops at that moment without any thought of shame. 

He looked down to me and I again obliged to bring myself to that moment. Remember what I said? Remember how it all fades out? Yes, in that moment really, there is he and I, but there is something else indescribable. There is a flood of light, or a rush of warmth or … it’s a flood, and I’m not speaking literally (although that is usually a copious amount too), but I cannot tell you. I can’t even begin to share it with you, what I mean. If you have experienced it, you know. It’s as if even your lover fades somewhat and you are elevated or enlightened or suspended… I don’t know. Whatever it is, we were there together, and I heard him saying my name in repeated whispers as if he couldn’t find me in the fog of such ecstasy. “I’m here, here..” I said, and I reached for him and pulled him down against me. We rocked together slowly, held tight together as the world spun back into regrettable focus. 

When he saw the slight hint of crimson at the corners of my eyes, he kissed me there and I felt like bawling outright for that tenderness but I held it together. “Louis…” I started to say. He shushed me with more kisses and he was right of course. We shouldn’t ruin it with talk, but I felt like I had to say something as if perhaps to establish that I was really once more out of that ethereal bliss and that he was here with me. How horrid to think that one of us would fall from such a height while the other was still there! How envious I might be if that happened, or sad, or some strange combination of both. “Louis, tell me you’re here” I whispered.

“Of course I’m here, silly. Where else might I be?” 

I wasn’t going to launch into my reasoning, my theories of lovemaking. He could hear all that another time. I imagined us sitting in Venice at a café watching the mortals pass by as we quietly spoke, and such a thing would cross my mind so I would simply start talking about it as if it were something I’d seen on the television news. He’d give me that look that said, ‘You do realize what you’re saying, don’t you?’ and I would nod and take up his hand in mine. Hopefully such a night would lead to more of what we’d just experienced together and he would better understand my asking such a question. The abstract thought of us sitting in that café made me laugh and Louis pinched me.

“Something incredibly funny, Lestat? Did my lovemaking amuse you?” He scowled at me mockingly and leaned close to nip at my earlobe. 

“No, no. Just thinking of us talking about sex and things. My mind so splendidly wanders in the haze and fog.” I answered and bit back at his shoulder. He didn’t stop me or pull away but rather almost insisted with a push that I take more, for he knew me well.


	3. Act 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following are selected excerpts from Livejournal Account “Indulgent Red: Volume One” 
> 
> Should you enjoy this writing yet come upon names and/or situations with which you are unfamiliar or would like to explore further, the entire collection can be found by visiting http://indulgentred.livejournal.com/ - It should be noted that Indulgent Red is no longer an active or monitored community. 
> 
> Questions regarding the content should be directed ***privately*** to the email address on file with AO3 or via private message. Thanks for reading, and in advance for your feedback.

Sometime later we were once more sitting together on the couch, dressed in the bare minimum and covered with a fleece throw. The stereo played and I found myself thinking that certain songs went well with the setting of us here in the moment, almost like a soundtrack. That led my mind to wander and Louis and I started a fun little bit about what song would go with whom or what song might best go with any given illustrious escapade of mine – or his for that matter.

“I don’t have escapades, Lestat. You have a corner on that market.” He argued. I shrugged as I leaned back against him in assumption that he might be correct in that statement. He chuckled and ran his fingers through my hair. He went on to tell me various details of our fundraising efforts and various charities in New Orleans and other locations. He’d been keeping busy while I was away, and I had to confess that though I often found charity appearances tedious and bothersome, I would have liked to have been at his side when he went to a few of them. I inquired whether he had gone to any Southern Decadence events, and he only laughed it off. He said he hadn’t, but that laugh made me wonder whether he might not have been dancing in drag at The Parade. 

“You’d make a splendid drag queen of course.” I threw out. “Yes sir, put that long hair of yours in some rollers, do it all up and get you a slinky evening gown and you’d be hot, Louis.” 

He pushed me playfully. “Get away from me with such talk. Really. A drag queen? You’re beyond redemption if you can see me in such a get up.”

“Come on!” I turned in his arms. “Just you would need some falsies and away we go!” I made as if I were lifting up his breasts and exaggerated the last half of my sentence like that old television show used to do, what was it, the Honeymooners?

I laughed at his expression and then he joined me in the amusement. “Yes, I’m sure we could go shopping for falsies. You and I, Louis and Lestat hitting the shops of the French Quarter in search of a good rack.”

I died with laughter when he said that and made his hands as if he were swinging the large breasts clockwise. How priceless! We really should go some September weekend to one of the parties. I mean, we have gone often but not in drag. Well, except for that one time when I …

He pulled me against his chest more tightly and whispered in my ear how glad he was to be home.

“It is home, as they say – wherever your heart is, n’est ce pas?” He kissed the top of my head and I turned enough so that instead he could kiss my mouth long and slow. I felt the instant urge for more, as I always do with him. It was that confusing instant when I want all things as I mentioned. I would settle just now for this cuddling because it was divine, but I would like before morning to have him beneath me, calling my name passionately. Just the image of it in my mind was enough to make me twitch in anticipation. Our interludes are hard to describe in words even with my linguistic capabilities. They are not necessarily rough, but neither are they gentle; I suppose I could say they are driven. They are fueled and intense. To picture Louis on his knees with me behind him, holding onto a long handful of his hair … mm, now that is inspiration! If he really could read my thoughts he would argue it was all I ever thought about when he was with me. He’d be only partially correct on that one.

“What are you thinking about, my lover?” He asked, in my silence.

“Funny you should ask.” I laughed and turned in his arms. I rained kisses onto his bare chest all the way up to his mouth and then let my tongue find his in sweet desire. Sometimes, it was good that he couldn’t read my mind. It was far more rewarding to demonstrate my thoughts all the way with him, and that was just what I intended to do.


End file.
